


Clones Share Bunk

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [86]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: Later, The Vode will ally with Naboo.  But before that, Naboo approaches with an offer.  Their Queen is a romantic, after all.
Series: Soft Wars [86]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 62
Kudos: 578





	Clones Share Bunk

When Obi-Wan is let into the Senator of Naboo’s offices, it isn’t just Padmé waiting for him.

“Your majesty.” He bows precisely as is proper for a Jedi addressing a monarch. Padmé meets his gaze as he rises, winces just that little bit around her eyes in apology. Not an ambush then, or not one she organized. He’s fond of the senator, but she’s still a politician and as wily as any other sometimes.

“Master Kenobi,” Queen Neeyutnee of Naboo says. “We have concerns. Senator Amidala believes you may be able to help us. Please sit.”

There is a holoprojector set up in between the comfortable couches. As Obi-Wan settles into one, aides rush forward to cue video.

Nubians are strict in their adherence to social protocol. There is pageantry in everything they do, an almost showmanship to their meetings. Seeing aides in set-up, assistants buzzing around the offices moving this or that, seeing behind the scenes; it’s almost stunningly casual.

Someone remembers there’s a non-Nubian in the room, and that no one has yet offered him food or drink. It sparks another flurry of motion and the most eclectic array of snacks appear at his elbow. Nothing about this meeting was planned.

The projector begins to play.

There is a pair of troopers, 501st by their colors. One in ARC armor, another in civs, both bowed over a bowl of noodles. The smile they share is a private one. Obi-Wan feels mournful that someone had intruded on that moment, had caught that second just for them on a recording. The scene changes, it’s 79’s next, and a trooper in 104th colors leans next to one in insignia Obi-Wan doesn’t immediately recognize, but the press of their heads is again heart-breakingly intimate. Another scene, a trio of troopers clutching each other as if they’re about to be ripped away. All three wear the colors of different battalions.

Another and another and another, scenes of troopers all over authorized Coruscant, taking the few minutes they’re spared to hold on to each other. Some footage is clearly security. Some is private, furtively shot.

A shakier camera, one of furtively held ones: a circle of troopers whoop around a pair who leap into each others arms. _‘What’s going on?_ ’ the camera-being asks.

‘ _They probably agreed to share bunks_ ,’ a trooper not in the celebrating orbit answers. The two troopers kiss, briefly, and rest their heads against each other. They’re crying, a little.

‘ _Is that like getting married_?’

The trooper scoffs. ‘ _People get married,_ ’ he sneers. ‘ _Clones share bunk_.’

Obi-Wan swallows, and has to close his eyes. Nubian aides remove the projector.

The Queen is not allowed to express sorrow, except for that of her people, and then only through the symbols of her position. But she weeps in the Force, for all that her face is glass.

A romantic, he remembers being tittered when she’d lost the election the first time she’d run. They’d all but disappeared by the time she won. They might not have been pure propaganda.

Aides and assistants subtly stream out of the room. Bodyguards too, and security. Obi-Wan is left alone with the Nubian Queen and their elected senator. Scramblers hum to life around them.

“These young men are hurting, Master Jedi,” the Queen intones.

“They are. Badly.”

“The Senate will not help.”

Padmé does not protest, though she wants to. She still has hope, still is optimistic, that the right voices the right vote can make things right. Obi-Wan doesn’t know when he lost faith, but it has been some time.

The Queen inclines her head, shows more emotion than is proper. “What is being done.”

A statement, not a question. Obi-Wan breathes out slowly, does not answer. Queen Neeyutnee nods, as though hearing what is unsaid.

“How can Naboo help the Jedi?”

That. That is what cuts through Obi-Wan’s composure. He laughs, roughly. Takes one of the drinks left for him. “The Jedi,” he says, “obey the mandates of The Senate.”

It startles both women and leaves something sick in Obi-Wan’s stomach. The GAR is the kind of exploitation that people expect the Jedi to stand against. What are they doing?

“Then who is helping them?” the Queen demands. “Who works for them? Speaks for them? Fights for them?”

The Nubian senator. The Alderaanian senator. Pantoran. Their allies. Their associates, when it’s advantageous. He doesn’t have to say that, the Queen is aware. They fight, but they fight like the Jedi fight: inside the system. And the system has no interest in freeing the clones.

The Jedi have made only modest grounds: days of leave, better medical care, more consideration to prosthetics. A paltry offering, for more than three years of work.

“Someone,” Queen Neeyutnee says slowly, “is fighting. Not for them. No. They are fighting for themselves, aren’t they?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer.

“How can Naboo help?”

Obi-Wan cannot answer, _will_ not because he trusts the women in this room, trusts their words and intentions. But he does not lead the Vode.

“I can relay your offer,” he says finally. “But that is all I can do. It isn’t my decision to make.”

“Then offer them our friendship, Master Kenobi,” the Queen says firmly. “Offer them our apologies, offer our resources. Our armors. Offer what they will accept. We have harmed these young men, and have stood by too long.”

Obi-Wan can offer. He knows Cody will not accept. He understands the sentiment, though he does not agree with the logic. Cody wants the Vode to owe no one; he is distrustful of the idea of allies. All he knows of people is what they want from him. He will not understand an offer of aid without conditions, and he will not trust it.

“I will try,” promises Obi-Wan, because in this, trying is all he can do.

“And offer them this.”

It’s flimsi, thick and ornate, hand-drawn knowing Nubians. The script is flowing and ancient.

“Upon the holder of this document, Naboo confers the privilege of the ability to invoke Naboo in joining beings in matrimony.”

A romantic, detractors had said, too soft to be Queen when the galaxy was heading for war. Obi-Wan cradles the document, understanding its value.

He thinks of Waxer and Boil, of that pilot he doesn’t know who always seems to be around when Spite is due off duty.

He thinks this, Cody might accept.

So long as Obi-Wan can find the right words.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bunkmates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307723) by [Chess_Blackfyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre)




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